


the decisions we make

by outranks



Series: choices [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 03:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20057467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outranks/pseuds/outranks
Summary: She can’t walk the thin line between the Resistance and the cult and expect to get out unscathed.





	the decisions we make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thefathersbride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefathersbride/gifts).

> thefathersbride asked for an alternate ending to the first part and of course I had to write that because I really wanted it too lakishdj;lk thank you again!! ❤️❤️❤️

Eleanor wakes to a silent room and the faintest touch of sunlight over the horizon, barely hidden from view through the thin curtains hanging in front of the window. It means she hasn’t slept too long; that there is still the night to hide her from the life she’s going to leave behind. The one she _has to_ leave. And though she knows that she can’t stay, her heart beats count the seconds she wastes in bed with Joseph. The man she loves. 

If she were smart, she'd leave right away, and if she were wise she never would have come back at all. Apparently she’s neither because she lingers there, watching him as he sleeps. 

Joseph’s face is in shadow, but there’s enough light through the window that she can see how peaceful he is and it gives her pause. Every part of her heart rebels against her decisions and the choices she knows have to be made. It would be wrong for her to stay here, to be with him, to let herself be happy with the man she’s given all of her heart to. She’s promised other people her life and her loyalty. Way back at the beginning before she knew what was in front of her, and now she can’t go back on that. There is so much more she still has to do, and so little time before this fight reaches a point of no return. The things she wants can’t matter. 

She lifts her hand to touch him, needing to know what he feels like against her skin one last time before she goes, but fear stills her. It keeps her from giving in to that desire. She knows, though she’s been reluctant to admit it, that the only thing that could stop her from leaving now is _him_. So as long as he’s still asleep then it won’t be a problem. Eleanor doesn’t cry again, still feeling wrung out from the night before, but her eyes sting and water with a hidden grief all the same. 

The sun is rising as the morning stretches on, rapidly bringing her time left with Joseph to an end. It’s how things have to be, no matter that she still can’t make herself get up from the bed— from _their_ bed. As much as the house belongs to Joseph, it’s _their_ home. It’s become theirs in the time she’s spent with him; in this house, in this bed, dreaming of a future where the two of them can be together. Where they can be happy without the rest of the world trying to pull them in different directions. Where her role and her duty won’t be at odds with her heart.

The seconds continue to tick by into minutes as she takes in every last detail that she’s going to need just to keep going when she’ll no longer have Joseph at her side. There’s a pain inside of her that makes her afraid to look down at her own chest, as if she’ll see an open wound that can’t be healed. Surely what she’s feeling must be physical as well because her heart is breaking into pieces so it must show as clear on her skin as if it were real. 

This is her home. Not just the place, but here with Joseph. He’s what she sees in her mind when she needs to keep going, keep pressing forward, and he’s what she sees in her heart when she wants to picture a better tomorrow. 

He’s who she loves without reason or question or limit. 

The world wasn’t meant for the two of them together and no matter how much her heart protests, Eleanor has to believe that if she’s going to force herself to leave him. Because she has to leave. She has to. It’s the plan she’s held in the back of her mind since she stepped onto the island the night before. 

Eleanor closes her mind against the sight of Joseph and takes a deep breath, steeling her nerves for what she’s convinced herself that she has no other choice but to do. She takes a deep breath, counting down from ten, and forcing herself to move little by little as the numbers tick down until she’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands clench into fists in the sheets for just a moment, before she’s pushing herself up. There’s this image in her mind of a door starting to close, cutting her off from everything she’s ever had or wanted. 

The floor is cold on her bare feet and it feels like a reflection of her heart. What it has to become to survive this. Her clothes are close enough to the bed that she can dress quickly without too much movement to disturb Joseph sleeping behind her. Still so peaceful in direct contradiction of everything Eleanor is feeling. But there’s a part of her that wants, more than anything, for him to wake and _stop her_ before it’s too late. When there’s still a chance to prevent her from doing the things she knows can never be undone. 

After this there will never be any coming back, for either of them. Not after what she has to do to keep her promise to the people of Hope County.

A wet sob catches in her throat, but breaks apart into nothing before it can escape her. She doesn’t want to keep her promises at the cost of Joseph’s love. She wants to cry and scream until her throat is raw because _none of this is fair_. As much as she’s trying to make her own choices now, the path was already laid out in front of her months ago and all she could ever do was follow it. She’s who the people of Hope County are counting on to fix everything and there’s too much momentum to stop now. 

She takes another deep breath, holding it, and refusing to let herself start crying again. If she gives in now, she isn’t sure she’ll be able to stop. 

But when she turns, when she allows herself to glance over at Joseph one more time, in spite of all the warning bells going off inside her head, something catches her eyes on the nightstand beside the bed. It’s the notebook that he’d been writing in earlier when she’d arrived. The same one that he always has when he gets lost in thought over all the words and ideas that he wants to share with his people. His _flock_.

Eleanor reaches for it before she thinks to stop herself, and begins to flip through the pages upon pages of hastily scrawled notes all mixed in with carefully drawn pictures and beautifully written passages about the Project and what it means to him. And all of it rendered by Joseph’s hand alone. Somewhere, some part of him is an artist, wanting to bring to life all of the things he sees in his mind. Even in the roughly drawn images in the margins are ideas that are so vivid they take her breath away.

But eventually she comes to the newest entry, the one he had been writing on when she arrived and the one she needed to see more than anything else.

It’s not perfect, not even close, but it hits her hard enough to bridge all the space she had wanted to put between them. The roughness of the prose strikes her first, as it’s something she hasn’t gotten to see before. The way the words play out through Joseph’s mind, then through his pen, and then out onto the page in front of her, all before he can clean it up for the faithful to hear. The way he flits and floats from idea to idea and then circles back to the beginning to finish his thought. It might have been confusing had she not known him so well, but she can follow the words and the meaning regardless of what direction they take. 

The words on the page feel heavy, weighted down by their importance in stark contrast against the white paper. Love, acceptance, _family_. All of the things she’s ever wanted and everything she knows is offered to her if she stays here for the rest of the night, and on until morning. 

A sob finally breaks free from her throat before she can hold it back. 

“Eleanor?” Joseph asks, shifting on the bed. The springs creak with his movement before she hears the soles of his feet hitting the floor. “What’s wrong? Eleanor, talk to me.” He’s warm against her back, a solid presence of familiarity and comfort as his arms wrap around her middle. He feels like an anchor keeping her steady while everything is spinning out of her control. 

The notebook drops from her fingers, hitting the ground with a dull _thud_, and she sags like the strings that have been holding her up have finally been severed. Her resolution to go leaves along with her energy, dissipating before it could ever fully take hold. She turns on shaking legs, her heart in her throat, and tears wetting her cheeks though she isn’t sure when she started crying. 

“Joseph,” she says, voice as thin as the pages in his notebook. Eleanor drops into his hold, pressing herself against him as everything else in the world falls away beneath her.

“Please,” Joseph says, his fingers pressing into her skin, holding her tight with fear. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Eleanor opens her mouth to speak, but her throat feels dry and no words come out. She has to tell him the truth, she _has to_, and yet she doesn’t know where to start. Nothing feels like the right beginning and even in her mind her thoughts have been a betrayal to him and everything the two of them have together. He’s her home; she knows this as well as she knows anything else and that’s the only hope she has to hold on to that he will forgive her for the things she’s been planning to do.

“I was going to leave,” she says, choking on her guilt and her remorse and her regret, all mixed up inside of her. “I can’t stay here— I can’t—” all the words get stuck in her throat as she can’t hold back another sob— “I can’t be part of what you’re doing; the fighting, the— the way you hurt people— and I was going to leave. I was going to do what has to be done to protect the people here and… I was going to leave.”

“Eleanor…”

“I love you.” The words spill out of her mouth as easily as everything else now that the dam has broken. “I love you,” she says, “and I want to be with you, but isn’t my duty to the Resistance? If I’m not the one to fix this— fix _everything_— then who else will?” Who else _could?_

Joseph sucks in a sharp breath, but there’s a long moment before he speaks that sends ice through Eleanor’s veins. “You don’t owe them your happiness,” he says, though he sounds quiet and distant. “Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

“I needed you to hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

She feels herself breaking all over again; torn between what she’s supposed to do and what she wants to do. Both have an equal hold on her, but it’s Joseph’s hold that is even stronger. In this moment now, with his arms still so tight around her, he’s the only thing in that world that is real. 

“You kill people, your family kills people,” she says. “There’s so much hurt and anger and— and _violence_ that I don’t know how I’m ever supposed to believe in you when everything around you is pain. I wanted to stop it— stop all of it the only way that seems possible, but you’re in my heart. Joseph, I— I don’t think I can do this without you. I want everything from you. The future, the family, all of it. I want a home with you that we can have together.”

Her heart feels torn open and raw. If it weren’t for Joseph still holding her up then she’s not so sure that her legs could keep her standing. Everything hurts, but nothing so much as the idea of not having this anymore. Not having him right there with her, by her side and in her life. 

If she hasn’t ruined that already.

“You told me that you love me and I couldn’t stand it,” she continues when Joseph doesn’t say anything. “If you hadn’t told me— if you hadn’t _loved_ me, then maybe this could have been easier. Maybe I could have left, but I can’t. I don’t want to live without you in my life.”

Joseph wipes at her cheeks, brushing her tears away as much as he can, and gently leads her back to the bed. It all seems so different now in the bright light of day, with everything she’s kept locked away finally out there in the open. He sits at the edge of the bed and pulls her down beside him so that they’re sitting together. “Do you still want to leave?” he asks. “Do you really wish to destroy everything that I’ve built?”

“No.” If the choice is between him and the Resistance then it’s a choice she’s already made. She’s done so much for them that they should have enough to build on without her and if not… maybe it wasn’t meant to be. “Not if it means being without you.”

They sit quietly, bathed in sunlight, and listening to the rest of the world slowly begin to wake up. It’s only a matter of time before the fighting starts again and everything she’s done here will begin to have an impact. The thought isn’t an easy one to accept, but then Joseph pulls her back into his arms and holds her close and she knows that it’s something she can come to live with. 

“I can’t leave you,” she says, “and I can’t ever go back to the Resistance.” That part of her life has to be over now. She can’t walk the thin line between them and the cult and expect to get out unscathed. She’s made her choice already and she’s prepared to take on everything that comes after. Her heart isn’t going to shatter which feels like more than she could have asked for hours ago. “Can you ever forgive me?” Even if he can’t, she won’t fight against him. That’s not something she thinks she’ll ever be willing to do. 

“Of course I can,” Joseph says, rubbing the palm of his hand up and down her arm in slow, soothing stroked, but still holding her tight with his other arm like he’s the one afraid that this will all disappear. “You had a moment of hesitation. We’ve all had our doubts at one time or another, but you stayed. You could have left when I was asleep and you didn’t. You stayed here with me.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You were only doing what you believed that you had to do.”

“The things I was planning--”

“They don’t matter,” he says, cutting her off before she can give voice to the terrible ideas she’d had to fix Hope County. “You’ve only ever seen a side of the Project that has become violent out of necessity. But there are so many people here, so many more who have joined us, and most of them are regular people simply trying to live their lives. Only a fraction of those people have taken up weapons to defend themselves and their homes and I understand how that must look to you. All of that violence and bloodshed…” he sighs and takes a deep breath, glancing out the window for a moment before looking back at her. “I’m going to show you the rest of the Project, if you’ll allow me. Let me prove to you that we’re more than what you’ve seen of us.”

“Yeah, yes, I want that too.” Eleanor is starting to feel lighter already; full of hope in a way she didn’t think she could be today. “I want to see this place the way you see it and I want to know that we can have a future that will be different than all of this. And… I need to know that I’m not making a mistake.”

Joseph presses his fingers to her jaw and tilts her face toward him for a kiss that’s as gentle and full of love as it had been the night before. “I promise you, everything is going to be alright,” he says. “I love you, Eleanor.”

She wants to believe him and believe in everything that he’s saying, regardless of how long she’s spent denying those ideas. And there’s a part of her, deep in her heart, that does. Joseph has never lied to her before and if she ever had any doubts about him before then she wouldn’t have allowed him this chance to tell her everything she needed to hear so that she would stay. She wouldn’t have given him the opportunity to love her or for herself to love him. “Okay.” She nods and leans in for another kiss, trying to pour every ounce of her love into it. 

Everything will be okay. 

Joseph smiles at her, warm and loving and lined with gold from the sun. “I’m going to make us breakfast,” he says, shifting so that he can get up off of the bed. “We’ll have all day together, no interruptions, I promise, and we can talk about everything. I want a future with you, and a family, and if you have any more doubts about me or the Project—”

“I don’t,” she says, without really thinking. “I mean, I do, but I’m not going to leave you.”

“I—” Joseph clears his throat— “I understand,” he says. “We’ll talk about all of it.”

“Thank you.”

Eleanor watches him go, utterly nakesd and comfortable in his own skin, in his own house where only she can see him, and even on this somber morning she can appreciate the line of his back and the way his muscles move as he walks. It makes her smile for the first time that morning. Even as she hopes that she’s made the right choice in staying with him— in choosing her heart over a sense of duty. She won’t ever be able to go back to the Resistance after this, especially not once news has spread of who she spends her nights with.

And who she’s given her heart to. 

But she’s at peace with that. 

After everything, she’s found a home and a man that she loves and who loves her in return. She wants to spend every day for the rest of her life with him. It’s definitely not going to be easy, but she thinks that it’s all going to be worth it. No matter what comes next.


End file.
